Corvette celebrates special anniversary

A half-century has gone by since the first Corvette peeked out of its hole and didn't see its shadow. So let us press the rewind button on the VCR and see if we can figure out what all went wrong.

In 1946, Americans had been without any new cars in more than four dreary years. (No, it wasn't because of a UAW strike.) Americans were ravenous for cars, any kind of cars. Yugos would have fetched top dollar.

That was the year Detroit factories were about to resume making cars right where they left off when they stopped making them in 1942. The cars, of course, would be identical to the ones they made that last day four years earlier. There was no time to do anything else.

Several young American boys returning home after their visit to Europe brought some souvenirs of their trip. They were odd-looking little cars with no tops and only two seats. They called them "sports cars," but they were just novelties to the reawakening Detroit industrial machine.

It wasn't until 1949 that we got our first really new cars and America went on a buying binge.

Out of curiosity, General Motors chief stylist Harley Earl attended a "sports car" race through downtown Watkins Glen, N.Y., a small village in the finger lakes region renowned for Bully Hill wine.

Harley was smitten with the Alfa Romeos, Allards, Delahayes, Ferraris, Jaguars, Maseratis, MGs and Talbots. America never had cars like those. With the car business so good, Harley thought maybe he could sell a few like them, so he designed one himself.

In 1953, the first 300 of Harley's new sports car, the Corvette, were produced in Flint, Mich. Then GM moved production to St. Louis. By the end of 1954, 3,265 Corvettes had been made, and of those, 1,076 were sitting around unsold. Harley was about ready to pull the plug, but before he could, Ford introduced the 1955 Thunderbird, and the public went ape over it.

A hot-headed young Chevrolet engineer, Zora Arkus-Duntov, told Harley and the boys at Chevrolet that they would look pretty silly if they admitted they were beaten by Ford. Harley and the boys told the kid, "If you think you can do better, go to it." So Zora became the new chief engineer of Corvette.

Oddly enough, Ford dropped the two-seater Thunderbird after the 1957 model.

Zora figured if racing worked for those European sports cars, maybe it would work for his Corvette. Especially if Corvettes could beat some of those foreign cars.

Corvettes competed at the new Sebring 12-hour race plus other American races sanctioned by the young Sports Car Club of America, a snooty bunch of well-to-do playboys mostly from the Hamptons and Westport Conn., like Roger Penske and his young friends. SCCA members all waved to each other on the road.

Racing sports cars was a gentlemanly sport not to be sullied by crass commercialism. Many young gentlemen raced Corvettes. These highborn genteel drivers would not stoop to compete for (yuck)... PRIZE MONEY.

Thus began the legend of the Corvette.

By 1959, an American's average annual income was $5,200. New homes were $20,000. Gasoline was 25-cents a gallon and first class postage was four-cents. A Corvette was $3,875. For that amount of money, one could become a member of an exclusive club, not unlike Augusta National, only here, ladies were enthusiastically welcomed.

Now, half a century after its start, membership in the Royal Order of Corvette Owners Club has understandably risen. For only $49,610, which is less than $1,000 a year for its age, you get the 50th Anniversary Corvette.

Many exotic features that were not even available as extra-cost options on earliest Corvettes are now standard. It even comes in a new color, 50th Anniversary Red.

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